Eldariell
by Queen Apolline
Summary: Laeglass, as the only elleth in her entire family, is highly overprotected. She is expected to be a lady, not a warrior as she wishes to be. She is sent to Rivendell for protection at the beginning of the War, but she finds a way to fight for Middle-earth on her own, as an ellon: Legolas of Mirkwood. But can she find love with Aragorn when she still grieves for her lost love?
1. SA 3390

**Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or anything else in Arda.**

**Author's Note: The title of this story is rough Sindarin for 'Daughter of the Elves.'**

_Yestarë, SA 3390_

"Arnenion, we can't take her any further!" Limlanthir called to his brother. The golden-haired elf wheeled his horse back around. "We need to stop!" Limlanthir continued. "She needs more medical attention than we can provide!" Arnenion argued. "You ride for our halls. I'll stay here with her," Limlanthir proposed. "I am a healer as well as a warrior." Arnenion hesitated, then nodded and galloped away.

Limlanthir gently dismounted from his horse and lifted his mother to the ground. She groaned. "It's alright, Nana, it's me, Limlanthir, you're safe." "Lim," she gasped. "Baby…coming…now!" "What?" Limlanthir asked sharply. "You're not due for months now!" "Baby…will…die…with me…other…wise," his mother choked out. "Don't talk like that, Nana, you're not going to die," Limlanthir urged. "Fading," she said. "I…can…feel…it. Ah!" She cried out in pain. "Lim…you… have…to…deliver…baby!" "Yes, Nana," he said shakily, praying that Arnenion would arrive with the healers before then.

Unfortunately, two hours later, help had not arrived. He knelt at his mother's feet. "Push, Nana, push!" he urged. She cried out in pain as Limlanthir watched, able to do little. "I can see the head!" he exclaimed. "You're almost there, Nana!" A moment later, Limlanthir held a wailing baby elleth in his arms. "It's a girl, Nana, your first daughter," Limlanthir said. "Nana, you have to live, for the baby! What are you going to name her?" She was quiet for a moment, though breathing heavily. "I think…" she finally gasped, "I shall…name her…Laegriel." "Laegriel," Limlanthir repeated. "Fresh green princess. It's beautiful, Nana, just like her."

"I am…fading, Limlanthir," she said quietly. "Tell your father…and brothers…I love them. Make sure…Laegriel…knows as well. I…love you, Limlanthir. Navaer." She took a last, shuddering breath, and then was gone. Tears began streaming down Limlanthir's face. He mindlessly removed his cloak and used it to wrap his new baby sister up in. He rocked her gently as he moved to his mother's head and placed it in his lap. The baby soon fell asleep.

Not twenty minutes after she died, Limlanthir heard the thunder of many galloping horses. A moment later, Arnenion rode up with their father and brothers. Arnenion's two sons and Limlanthir's son were with them. "It's too late," Limlanthir said bleakly. "She's dead." "NO!" their father yelled, jumping off his horse and running to her side. "Lasbelin! You cannot be dead!" He began to cry. Limlanthir held out the bundle in his arms. "Ada…she gave birth just before she died. It's a girl. Nana named her Laegriel." "My only daughter…" he muttered, taking the babe in his arms and cradling her with practiced ease. "The only princess of Greenwood. Eriel. One of only two elvish princesses in Middle-earth." He looked down at her, examining her face. "She looks just like Lasbelin. Perhaps I shall call her Pînlass." "Pînlass Laegriel," Arnenion said. "No," their father said. "Laegriel Pînlass. As always, Lasbelin had the best idea."

Limlanthir's brothers had dismounted and were crowded around the baby. The youngest of them, Saelthelion, was already far into adulthood, with a son of his own. No one had expected Thranduil and Lasbelin to have another child. "She is very fair, for one so young," Arthothronn mentioned. "We may have trouble keeping the ellyn away from her when she is older." The baby was quickly handed back to Limlanthir. "Take her to my father's halls," his father ordered. "Arnenion, Hîralfirin, Saelthelion, go with him. Take the twins and Aergil. Tell your grandfather and your grandmother that Lasbelin has passed and I am grieving. If Cenedril wishes to come out here, Arnen, Al, and Sael will escort her. We will wait the customary week, then we will bring Lasbelin's body back to the Halls for her funeral."

It took much longer to reach the Halls than it should have, mainly because Limlanthir was unused to carrying a baby while riding. When they arrived, they went straight to the throne room and knelt before the king. "Oropher-aran," Arnenion greeted. "We bring tidings from our father, Thranduil Oropherion. Our mother, Lasbelin of Gondolin, is dead. She lasted long enough to give birth to a daughter, who has been named Laegriel Pînlass." "I am so sorry, Arnenion Thranduilion," their grandfather said. "May I greet my first granddaughter?" Limlanthir approached him and wordlessly held out the bundle. Oropher took it and looked at her for a long time. "She looks like Lasbelin," he said. "That's what Ada said," Saelthelion commented.

The doors flew open, and a dark-haired elleth practically flew in. "Lasbelin?" she demanded. "Where is she?" "She faded, Nananeth," Arnenion said solemnly. "She gave birth first." Cenedril quickly moved over to where Oropher held the sleeping baby. "Girl or boy?" she asked, peering down at her. "Girl," Limlanthir replied. "Nana named her Laegriel, and Ada is calling her Pînlass. Laegriel Pînlass. He said Nana had the best idea." "May I hold her?" Cenedril asked Oropher. The king handed the baby to her. "I can see why Thranduil is calling her little leaf," Cenedril mentioned. "She looks very much like Lasbelin did as a baby."

"Ada said that Hîralfirin, Saelthelion, and I are to escort you out to where Nana lies if you wish, Nananeth," Arnenion stated. "Please," she nodded, tears falling gently down her face. "I'll go get my cloak." She handed the baby to Limlanthir and disappeared. "You should probably take her to Tawarloth," Oropher mentioned. "She's still nursing Thalion, isn't she, Saelthelion?" "Yes, Oropher-aran," Saelthelion said with a bow.

Oropher nodded curtly. "He's a bit old for it, but it's a good thing. She can nurse Laegriel until she's weaned. Gwanûn, Gwanûr, Aergil, go tell all your aunts the bad news." The three bowed and left the room, just as Cenedril reentered. "I'm ready," she announced. Arnenion nodded. "Let's go." They all bowed to Oropher and left the room, leaving only Limlanthir and Laegriel behind. He also bowed, awkwardly, due to the baby in his arms. "I shall see you soon, Adadar," he said. "You're dismissed," Oropher agreed.

Limlanthir quickly left the room in search of Tawarloth. He found her, along with his wife and his other brothers' wives, in their embroidery room. The twins and Aergil had already arrived, and all the women were crying but Heleghiril, who never cried but looked close to it, and Ivorbaneth, who refused to cry because it ruined her makeup. "Is it true, Lim?" his wife, Aeladuial cried out as he entered the room. "Yes," he said, grief making his voice hoarse. "Nana is dead. I have a new baby sister, Laegriel Pînlass." He turned to look at Tawarloth. "Will you nurse her?" She hesitated a moment, then held out her arms for the baby. Limlanthir gently handed her over. At the change of hands, Laegriel awoke and began to cry. Tawarloth quickly hurried away to nurse her.

Aela came over to him and wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug. Limlanthir let himself sink into her arms. He had been closest to his mother, of the eight sons. Of the eight, only he was a healer like she was. Arnenion was the Crown Prince. Belmethor, Tûrgelir, Baraglawar, and Arthothronn were warriors. Hîralfirin was practically a wood elf, spending all his time with plants and animals. Saelthelion was a scholar. Of all the children, Limlanthir had spent the most time with their mother. He would miss her dearly.

He gently pulled himself out of Aela's arms. She was watching him intently. "Will you fade?" she whispered in his ear. He shook his head. "Laegriel needs me. So does Arnen. If Ada fades…" She kissed him lightly. "I understand." She returned to her chair and picked up her embroidery once more. Limlanthir snagged a book from the bookshelf – he didn't care what it was – and sat down beside her. He opened the book, but barely made it a line before his mind drifted towards his parents and brothers and sister.

A moment later, Tawarloth was back, handing the baby to Limlanthir. "I think you're her favorite, Lim," she joked lightly. "She's done." Limlanthir looked around at his sisters-in-law. "Anyone else want to hold her?" he offered. A chorus of exclamations answered him.

* * *

The funeral for Lasbelin was very solemn. It had been two weeks since her death, enough time for dignitaries and emissaries to arrive from across Middle-earth. Elendil came from Arnor and Isildur and Anárion from Gondor. Dúrin IV came from Khazad-dúm, and Lossenhathel from Dorwinion. Celeborn, Galadriel, and Celebrían came from Lothlórien and Gil-galad, Elrond, and Glorfindel came from Lindon. It was the last that everyone was most excited to see. Cenedril had not seen her husband since he had died in the First Age, and the Thranduilionneth had never met their other grandfather.

Glorfindel had written to Cenedril as soon as he had returned to Middle-earth as an extremely powerful Elf-lord. He had told her of his return, and that he could not come to live with her and Lasbelin in Greenwood, as he had to assist Gil-galad under the orders of the Valar. Cenedril and Lasbelin had visited him once, when Thranduil had to make a state visit to Lindon. None of the children had accompanied them, though they all exchanged regular letters with their grandfather. Now, Glorfindel was finally coming to Greenwood. It was heartbreaking that the first time he met them would be for his only child's funeral. The Thranduilionneth all suspected that when he left, Cenedril would go with him. Her daughter was dead. There was nothing for her here now.

Thranduil, his sons, their wives, and their sons greeted everyone who arrived. Laegriel was only present to greet the last party, the one from Lindon. They politely paid their respects to their fourth cousin, Ereinion Gil-galad, then to their second cousin once removed, Elrond, then to their long-absent grandfather. Arnenion spoke first. "Le suilon, Glorfindel o Thlim Losglóriol, adar o Lasbelin, hervenn o Cenedril. Im Arnenion Thranduilion, ion-iarwain o Thranduil i Rínernil o Caleneryn i Beleg." Glorfindel smiled broadly, but sadly. "Gi suilon, Arnenion o Caleneryn i Beleg, ion o iell-nín. Mae g'ovannen."

Arnenion quickly, as quickly as one could with so many people, introduced the Thranduilionneth and their wives and sons. Lastly, he introduced the baby in Limlanthir's arms. "This is Laegriel Pînlass, given to Ada and Nana just before Nana died, brennyn-nín." "May I hold her?" Glorfindel asked politely. Limlanthir handed the baby over. "She is very sweet," he said. "But fiery. Her temper is short, and she will lash out in anger. But she is strong. And brave. Braver than most of the Eldar. You will be great one day, little one," he told the baby affectionately. "Is that a prophecy?" Saelthelion asked. Glorfindel though a moment, then nodded. "I believe it was."

The funeral was held the day after they arrived. Thranduil, Cenedril, Glorfindel, and Limlanthir were the chief mourners. The Thranduilionneth had decided, amongst themselves, that as Limlanthir was the closest to their mother among their number, it should be he who represented them in mourning. All four chief mourners were dressed in black robes, with heavy hoods and veils. If not for height differences, it would have been impossible to tell who was who. None of the men were short, but Glorfindel and Limlanthir were both extremely tall, though the younger was still shorting than the Balrog-slayer. Thranduil was an inch shorter than Limlanthir, and Cenedril was several inches shorter than him.

The body was carried into the court in a gilded coffin, borne by four silent pallbearers. These were the four warrior sons, Belmethor, Tûrgelir, Baraglawar, and Arthothronn. They all had tears streaming down their cheeks, but they did their duty as pallbearers, gently laying the coffin on pedestal and bowing to it. They then stepped back for the chief mourners to come forward. A mourner knelt at one corner of the coffin. Cenedril and Thranduil were audibly sobbing, barely upright from the force of their sobs. Limlanthir and Glorfindel both shook with muffled sobs. Everyone was very solemn as they paid their respects to the Crown Princess. The Thranduilionneth were all crying, except for Laegriel as she lay sleeping in Saelthelion's arms.

She woke up just as Saelthelion stopped by Lasbelin's coffin. "Na-na," she said in a small, high voice, reaching out to grab one of Lasbelin's slender fingers with a chubby hand. "Na-na. No, Na-na. No, Na-na." She repeated her chant, holding tightly to Lasbelin and not letting go, no matter what Saelthelion did. Thranduil stood from where he knelt beside the coffin and lowered his hood and raised his veil. "Pînlass, come to Ada," he said, reaching out to take her from Saelthelion. Surprisingly, Laegriel let go and reached for Thranduil. He took her in his arms and rocked her slightly. "Na-na go bye?" Laegriel asked, whimpering. "Yes, Pînlass," Thranduil cooed. "Your nana is going bye-bye. You'll see her again someday." "'Kay, A-da," she said, snuggling into his chest and falling back asleep. The ceremony was over shortly after. Thranduil kept Laegriel in his arms during the rest of it.

Two days later, all the dignitaries were leaving. Cenedril was also leaving, returning to Lindon with Glorfindel. "Navaer, Nananeth, Nanadar," Limlanthir said, again holding Laegriel. "Navaer, Limlanthir," Glorfindel said. Surprisingly, he had managed to learn all of their names in four days. "Navaer, Arnenion, Belmethor, Tûrgelir, Baraglawar, Arthothronn, Hîralfirin, Saelthelion. Navaer, Ivorbaneth, Aeladuial, Heleghiril, Gwiwileth, Silivren, Talagansell, Faeleirien, Tawarloth. Navaer, Gwanûn, Gwanûr, Aergil, Garamdir, Gladaraf, Seregollor, Longolf, Bellmeril, Thalion." He bowed lightly to each Thranduilionneth in turn.

Laegriel began to cry. "Nan-da, Na-na-na!" Both Cenedril and Glorfindel kissed her on the brow. "We will see you again, little leaf," Cenedril promised. "We are not leaving forever." "Na-na did," Laegriel said sadly. "We are not going good-bye forever like your Nana," Glorfindel said firmly. "We will come back. We promise, little leaf." "Bye-bye Nan-dar, Na-na-na," Laegriel said with a toothless smile and a small wave of her hand. Both smiled. "Bye-bye, little leaf," they said as they mounted up on their horses and rode away.


	2. SA 3434

**Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or anything else in Arda.**

_Second Age 3434:_

"Sire, the Last Alliance has crossed the Misty Mountains," the messenger reported. "My lord King Ereinion Gil-galad requests the aid of your armies." Oropher sat on his throne, surrounded by Thranduil and the Thranduilionneth. "Tell Gil-galad that we will fight with him, but we will not fight for him," Oropher said firmly, repeating the decision that they had made three years before, at the formation of the Last Alliance. "Our armies are ready to join him. I will be leading seventy thousand of my men to join you." The messenger bowed. "I will inform my lord King." "Tell him that I offer the hospitality of my halls for his top commanders," Oropher offered. "Yes, Your Majesty. I was also asked, by Lord Glorfindel, to inform you that Lady Cenedril is coming to your halls to stay with Princess Lasriel." Oropher nodded. "I expected as much, in fact, I invited her here. Tell Gil-galad that if he gives us an hour's notice of his coming, we'll have hot food ready for him." "Yes, Your Majesty," the messenger bowed again. At Oropher's sign of dismissal, he quickly left the throne room.

Oropher waved his head again, and everyone besides Thranduil and the Thranduilionneth left the room. As soon as they were gone, Laegriel burst out, "Are you all leaving?" Everyone was silent a moment, but then Thranduil took her small hand in his and said, "Yes, little leaf. Your brothers and grandfather and I will lead the armies, your sisters will be healers, and your nephews will fight. You will stay here with Lady Cenedril, Ivorbaneth, Tawarloth, and Thalion. If we all die, then you will be the Queen of Greenwood the Great." She tilted her head. "Why me? I'm the youngest." "But of those staying behind, it is you who could be the best ruler," Oropher stated. She looked up at him. "Your Nanadar said so," he added. She nodded solemnly. "Yes, Adadar.

The Last Alliance arrived the next day. A hundred thousand men, three hundred thousand elves, and fifty thousand dwarves were now camped inside the borders of Greenwood the Great. Oropher had told Gil-galad, in no uncertain terms, that the dwarf armies were to stay as far away from his halls as possible. Gil-galad had replied that he was very sorry that Oropher's wife Beriasirith was killed when the Dwarves sacked Doriath, but those were not the same Dwaves that were joining them now, so he and his armies were required to be courteous.

Gil-galad led the way, with his lieutenant Círdan and his herald Elrond. Galadriel and Celeborn were with them. Behind them were Elendil, his son Isildur, and his sons, Elendur, Aratan, and Ciryon. Lastly was Dúrin IV with his four top commanders. Oropher stood in the center of the platform as they waited. Thranduil was at his right hand and Arnenion his left. Thranduil's sons and grandsons stood on either side of them in perfect order, all the way down to forty-seven-year-old Thalion. The three groups fanned out in a line, the Men to the right of the Elven delegation and the Dwarves to the left. "Ai, Ereinion Gil-galad, aran o Ódhellim, le suilon. Le nathlam hí. Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn," Oropher greeted solemnly. Gil-galad replied, "Ai, Oropher, aran o Eryn Galen. Le suilon."

They proceeded to introduce everyone who was with them, which was a long and pointless ceremony. Oropher, Thranduil, and the Thranduilionneth already knew everyone by the Dwarven commanders, and they didn't care for those names. Likewise, none of the Last Alliance commanders, besides Gil-galad, Elrond, Galadriel, and Celeborn, were likely to remember more of the Greenwood royalty than Oropher, Thranduil, and Arnenion.

When the introductions were finally over, Oropher invited the Last Alliance commanders for a feast in their honor. "May I ask where the ellith are?" Gil-galad queried. "Three of them are working on the feast. The other six are preparing to leave. They are coming as healers," Oropher replied. They entered the Great Hall where the feast was to be held. Oropher instructed the visitors where to sit. Gil-galad, Elrond, Elendil, Isildur, Dúrin, and his son were seated at the High Table with Oropher, Thranduil, and Arnenion. The rest of the commanders were instructed to eat at another table with the Thranduilionneth. Thalion ate at a different table occupied by the wives of the Thranduilionneth. An empty throne sat between Oropher and Gil-galad. "The Queen's chair," Oropher explained to the questioning looks.

Once all were seated, Oropher stood and clapped his hands three times. The hall fell silent. "Again, friends, welcome. Tomorrow, we march to war, but tonight, we feast!" The Greenwood elves in the hall cheered. "And now," Oropher continued, "there is one other who is to join us this night. May I present my only granddaughter, Laegriel Pînlass?" The doors at the back of the hall opened and Laegriel, though obviously young, even by elven standards, entered with a grace obtained by the highest of noblewomen. She was gowned in a beautiful Elven gown, trimmed in gold, with gold and jewels dripping from her neck and brow. She entered the hall silently, with the utmost grace, looking every bit a princess. Oropher helped her into the throne beside him, the Queen's throne. Once she was seated, Oropher raised his wine-glass. "And now, let us feast!" he exclaimed. The hall cheered.

As the meal went on, Gil-galad engaged Laegriel in conversation. "You have grown much from the time I last saw you, Princess Laegriel," he said. "What are you studying?" Laegriel smiled. "History, Mathematics, Sciences, Sindarin, Quenya, Westron, Politics, Philosophy, Ilúvatar, Music, Painting, Sewing, Weaving, Embroidery, Flute, Harp, Dancing, Art, Conversation, Etiquette, Archery and Swordsmanship, as well as some other weapons," she said quickly. "That must occupy much of your time," Gil-galad noted. "Which is your least favorite?" "Embroidery," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "And Conversation, though I at least know why that is necessary. I haven't found a useful purpose for embroidery yet." Gil-galad chuckled and whispered conspiratorially, "I haven't found a purpose for it either." Laegriel giggled.

"What is your favorite subject?" Gil-galad asked. "Archery," she said quickly. "And Swordsmanship, though I prefer using knives to swords." "Long knives?" Gil-galad asked. She nodded exuberantly. "But Ada and Adadar and my brothers and their wives and sons think that I shouldn't do that. They think I should be a perfect lady. I don't like being a lady," she whispered. "You are doing an excellent job tonight," Gil-galad noted. "It's their last night," she pointed out. "The least I could do was to make them happy. They might not return." "That is very kind of you," Gil-galad said. "Why do you like long knives more than swords?" They quickly launched into a rapid conversation of the benefits of knives over swords, the disadvantages, the importance to having a second weapon, and their differing opinions on the value of spears.

* * *

Before dawn broke the next day, Laegriel woke. She quickly and silently dressed and grabbed her weapons as she left the room. The bow was perfect, she had made it herself, the latest in a long line of bows. Her brothers had outright refused to teach her archery unless she made her own bow, so she did as she was told, when she was only five years old. She had crafted new bows whenever she grew out of the old one. However, the warriors were still annoyed if they found her at the range. She also had a pair of knives that she had found in the armory. They were identical, but they didn't feel right in her hands. She didn't want to make her family mad by asking for new ones. She feared Ivorbaneth the most. The elleth had disliked her since she was born, as Oropher, with the full support of his son and grandsons, had decreed that none of his grandsons' wives would bear the title "princess", and it would belong to Laegriel and Laegriel alone.

She slipped onto the training grounds. She pulled out her knives first. She alternated which weapon she started with every morning. She was usually kicked off the training grounds before she practiced long with the second. She had only practiced for a few minutes when a voice came from behind her, "You do well for one so young." She didn't think, she just reacted, not knowing the voice instantly. She charged towards him, sliding between his legs and the turning rapidly. She ran back between his legs, forcing her shoulders into the backs of his knees, forcing him to collapse to the ground. She continued running until she was out from under his legs, then backflipped onto his chest, doing a 180 degree turn midair so that she could face him. She landed on his chest, knocking the breath out of him, and had her knives at his throat. The entire encounter had taken less than three seconds.

Laegriel gasped and quickly got off as she realized who she'd just tackled. "King Gil-galad!" she exclaimed. "I am so sorry. I didn't know it was you." He chuckled as he slowly got to his feet. "Obviously. Who taught you those moves?" She looked down at the ground, scratching the dirt with her toe. "I made them up," she mumbled. "That's the first time I've gotten to use them in combat. I've practiced the flips on my own, but never against someone." "It was very well done," Gil-galad said, rubbing his chest. "I'm so sorry," she repeated miserably. "I probably bruised some of your ribs, and you're leaving today for battle." He chuckled. "It's alright, little leaf, if I may call you that."

She shrugged. "Everyone does, except the servants and the common people, they call me Laegriel or Lasriel." "Leaf princess?" Gil-galad questioned. "On account of my father-name," she said. "Little leaf. It's inappropriate for them to call me that, so they call me princess leaf instead." "Have you chosen a name for yourself yet?" Gil-galad questioned. She hesitated a short moment, then nodded. "I haven't told anyone else. No one else has asked." "What do you call yourself?" Gil-galad questioned. She smiled slightly. "I like Laeglass." "Greenleaf?" Gil-galad said. "It suits you. May I have your permission to use it?" She nodded, and he gave a courtly bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Laeglass." She giggled and curtsied in reply. "The pleasure is mine, King Gil-galad."

"May I see your knives?" Gil-galad politely enquired. She handed the twin blades over. He examined them, tossing them between his two hands. Laeglass watched with interest. He was frowning. "These are not very good," he said, looking at Laeglass. "No," she admitted. "But that was what I found in the back room of the armory. Everyone tries to discourage me from fighting, so I can't commission some like my brothers do. I'll probably never have decent knives." Gil-galad clasped her on the shoulder. "I am sorry, little leaf. Would you care to show me your skills in archery? If they are anything like your close combat skills, I suppose I will be duly impressed." Laeglass smiled as she led him to the range.

It was still empty, just as she'd hoped. She paused a moment. "Can you time me?" she asked the High King. "Of course," he said. "Ready…go!" Laeglass whipped her bow from her back, strung it expertly, and drew and released three arrows in the blink of an eye. When she turned to look at Gil-galad, he was wide-eyed. "Most fully grown archers I've met aren't that quick," he said quietly. He looked at the target, where the three arrows split one another, directly in the bull's eye. "And none of them are so quick and so accurate all at once. You are very skilled, young one."

He raised her chin so that he could look her in the eyes. He unclasped two long, white knives from his belt and held them out to her. "These belonged to my great-grandfather, Fingolfin, the High King of the Noldor. They were made by Fëanor, but he gave them to his brother as an apology for almost drawing swords on him. They are the very best of blades, but I do not use them often. I want you to take them. I may not come back from this war, but you, little leaf, you will survive, and you will become a great warrior." Laeglass tentatively reached out and lifted the one of the blades from his hands. She drew it from its sheath, and gasped in pleasure at the sight of the shining white blade. She sheathed it again and looked at him, wide-eyed. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so very much!" Gil-galad smiled. He took the second blade and attached the sheath to her belt. He took the other from her hands and attached it as well. "There," he said firmly. "Now you look like a proper warrior-maid. May I escort you to breakfast, Maethoriel?" he asked, standing and offering his arm. She laughed and took it with the grace of a princess. However much she tried to deny it, she had learned her lessons well.

When they entered the dining room, they were some of the first to arrive. None of Laeglass's immediate family were there, though Lord Elrond was. Gil-galad sat down beside him, and invited Laeglass to join them. "There's no one else here, Maethoriel. Your family won't be offended that you didn't want to sit alone," Gil-galad persuaded. Laeglass gave in and sat between the two men. "How do you fare, Lord Elrond?" she asked formally. He chuckled. "I'm not much for the formalities of Greenwood. Elrond is just fine, little leaf. What were you calling her, Gil-galad?" "Maethoriel," he replied. "Warrior-princess. Have you seen her fight?" Elrond shook his head. "She took me down before I could blink," Gil-galad bragged. "She's magnificent." Laeglass blushed. "And Maethoriel, you need not call me "King" or "Your Majesty." I have enough people doing that. You can call me Rodnor. That is my name in Sindarin." "Th-thank you, King…I mean, Rodnor," Laeglass stammered.

The servants quickly served them breakfast, and during the meal, Gil-galad quizzed Laeglass on her memory as different elves entered. She named each and every one, even the less important, without hesitation. "You have a remarkable memory," Gil-galad admired. "I am a princess of Middle-earth, the only person in Middle-earth who bears that title," she replied. "Among the ellith in Middle-earth, only Celebrían is of rank equal to mine, and only Galadriel is greater. I must remember everything, especially names." She rolled her eyes. "According to Ivorbaneth, it is grievously impolite to beg a person's name more than once, yet I've seen her do it thrice during one ball." "You don't like your sister-in-law?" Gil-galad asked with a raised eyebrow. "I don't like her act of superiority," Laeglass replied.

"How are you at history?" Elrond asked. "I never forget a date," Laeglass said. "I don't forget anything, not ever. I remember the first time I met you, well, the first time I saw you while I was awake. It was at my mother's funeral, just after Ada took me from Sael. I could see you over Ada's shoulder. You were sad, but not crying. You were watching me very curiously." "Everyone was watching you curiously," Gil-galad remarked. "Elven funerals are very, very rare, and no elleth has died in childbirth since Míriel, mother of Fëanor. None of us had ever seen a barely speaking child at their mother's funeral, begging her to come back. Elven funerals tend to be much quieter." She blushed. "That's the only bad thing about my memory. I remember every embarrassing thing I've ever done." Both Elrond and Gil-galad began to laugh.

It was then that Arnenion entered the room. He quickly spied the trio and walked over to them. "My Royal Sister isn't bothering you, is she, my lords?" he asked worriedly. "No," Gil-galad said. "She is very good company. I am becoming very sorry that we are due to depart today." "I could travel with you as far as the forest border," Laeglass suggested hopefully. "Absolutely not," Arnenion said firmly. "Your safety, little leaf, is the most important thing to our family. That is why we go to war, to protect you, because we know our armies could not stand alone against the forces of Mordor if Sauron tried to harm you. That why the Greenwood army marches." He turned and stalked away to the High Dais.

Laeglass had a crestfallen expression on her face. "I didn't think it would work," she said, munching on a piece of bread. "But I had to try. I could fight." "Not yet, Maethoriel," Gil-galad said gently. "You must wait until you are of age. Do you know what Sauron would do if he saw you on the battlefield?" She shook her head. "He would first laugh, then smite you immediately, so that your family would fall to grief, and Greenwood elves would be leaderless and would fall quickly. And we need their archers. Greenwood archers are the best in Middle-earth." Laeglass smiled proudly. "And I'm going to be the best of the Greenwood archers." Gil-galad chuckled. "That's exactly right, warrior princess. Exactly right."

The warriors departed midmorning. Laeglass bid a tearful goodbye to every single one of her brothers and nephews, and especially her father. She then moved to Celeborn and Galadriel, Elrond, Círdan, whom she solemnly bid farewell with the grace of an elven princess, and finally to Gil-galad. He smiled down at her from atop his high horse, Aiglos across his back. "You have to come back too," she said, tears still falling down her face. "Of course, warrior princess. I won't ever get to spar with you properly if I don't come back." Laeglass smiled and curtsied. "I can't wait, King Rodnor."

**Author's Note that Matters: In this story, I have rearranged the family tree slightly so that Oropher, father of Thranduil and grandfather of Laeglass, is the brother of Celeborn and Galathil, the great-grandfather of Elrond. Therefore, basically all elves of note, as well as the Line of Elendil, are Laeglass's cousins...somehow. Tolkien never gave an actual age for Legolas, so I chose not to follow the trading cards and make up my own to fit the story. **

**Author's Note for Info Only: Laeglass's brothers, in order, are Arnenion, Limlanthir, Belmethor, Turgelir, Baraglawar, Arthothronn, Hiralfirin, and Saelthelion. Her brother's wives, in order, are Ivorbaneth, Aeladuial, Heleghiril, Gwiwileth, Silivren, Talagansell, Faeleirien, and Tawarloth. Her nephews, all of whom are older in her, in order, are twins Gwanun and Gwanur, Aergil, Garamdir, Gladaraf, Seregolior, Longolf, Bellmeril, and Thalion.**


	3. Letters

**Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or anything else in Arda.**

To: Laegriel Pînlass, Princess of Greenwood the Great

From: Gil-galad Ereinion, High King of the Noldor in Exile and King of Lindon

_SA 3434_

_Dear Maethoriel,_

_If you have not read any of your family's letters before this, it will come as a surprise to you that I am offering my consolations. I regret to inform you (if you do not already know) that your grandfather, Oropher, is dead, as are a great number of the warriors from Greenwood, though the rest of your family is safe. I would like to place the blame on him, for he did not follow my orders, but I know that had I been a better commander, I could have prevented his death. Again, I am very sorry._

_You will pleased to know that we have defeated the forces of Sauron on the plains outside of Mordor. We are now besieging the Tower of Barad-dûr, though the forces of the Dark Lord are fighting with all their strength. We had a simple strategy: fight our way into Mordor, mount an assault upon Barad-dûr, and kill Sauron. Of course, there are a few more tactics that that, but that is the main part of the plan. We have accomplished the first two steps of the plan, and now have only the last. The orcs have an even simpler strategy: kill us all. We intend not to let that happen, though the Enemy's forces are numerous. _

_According to tallies made by Elrond, another of my advisors called Erestor, and your brother Saelthelion, we have calculated that were close to two million orcs. There are also tens of thousands of evil Men, including Haradrim, Easterlings, Black Númenoreans, and Variags. The evil birds and beasts also fight for the Dark Lord. By the grace of the Valar, we also have birds and beasts on our side, especially the Great Eagles of Manwë. Also by the grace of the Valar, the dragons that fight for Sauron were obviously inexperienced and fell quickly to the Eagles. There are very few left, and none of those can fly, and only one can breathe fire. _

_As I am sure you want to know, I will try to do the Eagles justice in telling you how they destroy a winged fire-drake. Three Eagles start by distracting the dragon, pulling at its tail and wings to ruin its flight. Dragons use their tails to steer themselves where they wish to go, but they can also use them to swat Eagles out of the air. I have seen two eagles die this way, caught by lucky shots from the winged fire-drakes. The three Eagles would also strike at the dragon's wings with their claws, rending great holes in the sensitive wing flesh. Suddenly, two more Eagles would swoop in, clawing at the dragon's eyes until they were nothing but empty sockets. The Eagles would then, together, force the dragon to the ground over the forces of Mordor. It is a method that not only slays a dragon, but also destroys enemy forces. Once, the Eagles managed to make a dragon breathe continuous fire onto Mordor's forces for two hours before the dragon figured it out and was killed._

_On a different thought, I hope you are still training and coming up with maneuvers. I tried the trick you used on me on a cave troll the other day, and it worked magnificently. All the other warriors were clamoring to learn how to do it. I hope you do not mind that I taught them. It is a move that could prove very useful to us in this war. Even in Greenwood, you are still doing your part. Keep coming up with maneuvers. While every one cannot be as good as this one, there are always roses among the thorns._

_I hope to see you soon, Maethoriel._

_Your friend,_

_Rodnor_

To: Gil-galad Ereinion, High King of the Noldor in Exile and King of Lindon

From: Laegriel Pînlass, Princess of Greenwood the Great

_SA 3434_

_Dear Rodnor,_

_I am very glad that you won the Battle of Dagorlad, but saddened to hear of my grandfather's death. I do not blame you, Adadar never listened to anyone if he didn't want to. Neither does Ada, though he is a bit better than Adadar. Limlanthir said that I have my mother's face, but my grandfather's temperament through and through, but without any of tempering out from Adananeth that Ada has. I must admit, I do not like listening to people._

_According to Ivorbaneth, I'm being terribly presumptuous in writing to you, but you wrote to me first, so I assume that you are fine with it. Ivorbaneth has been most irritating ever since the Last Alliance left, and even more irritating since Adadar died. She didn't cry at all, she wasn't even sad! She faked it a bit, as she announced it to the people that the King was dead, but I saw her before and after. She wasn't sad. She was actually glad that he was dead. I heard her mutter, "Finally, that old fool's gone." She's too glad that her husband is now the Crown Prince of Greenwood for anything else. Please don't tell Ada or my brothers any of this, none of us really like Ivorbaneth, but Arnenion loves her, and she makes him happy, so we try not to do anything._

_With Adadar's death, I have gained a new title: Princess Royal. Now I am not just a princess, but a Princess Royal. Some of the servants have started calling me Arariel, or even worse, Erielarnen. I already had enough names, and now they're adding more. Laegriel, Lasriel, Eriel, Arariel, Erielarnen… everyone seems so hung up over the fact that I'm a princess. I often ask myself, why did Nana have to know me green princess? She could have picked something similar that didn't mean princess! I don't mind Maethoriel that much, but the two things I'm always called are 'little' and 'princess'! It's enough to make anyone scream! I had very good reasoning for naming myself Greenleaf. While I may be both child and princess, I shall not be either for eternity._

_I know I speak for all of Middle-earth when I wish you the best of luck fighting Sauron._

_Best of luck,_

_Laeglass_

**Author's Note: I'm being really lazy and not writing five years' worth of letters. Laeglass and Gil-galad were writing through all the time I skipped, probably once every two weeks. They grew very, very close through their letters. **

To: Laegriel Pînlass, Princess Royal of Greenwood

From: Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in Exile, King of Lindon

_SA 3439_

_My dear Maethoriel,_

_In your last letter, you mentioned your weariness of the homefront, of speaking words of encouragement that you do not believe yourself, of controlling rations and production. I would first like to say that you are handling it all magnificently. While I do not know of Greenwood's specifics, my seneschal, Erestor, told me of how well Greenwood was doing compared to Lindon during this time of war. I thought that Lindon was doing well, based on the reports, but according to Erestor, Greenwood is doing much better. Erestor was so much humbled that he offered to resign from his post as seneschal, as there were obviously those who could do the job better than he. I told Erestor that he need not worry, as I doubted that many others could handle it with your efficiency._

_I know that it feels wrong to say things to the people that you don't believe, but that is one of the main duties of a ruler. Rulers are not meant to be optimistic at heart, because then, they are not prepared when disaster strikes. A wise ruler hopes for the best while preparing for the worst. However, the people must be encouraged, that they do not lose hope and decide to abandon our cause. Therefore, we must always encourage them and keep up a cheery façade, however grim we feel inside. I will not lecture you on anger, mell-nîn, and keeping an even temperament, as I know that it would only be a waste of parchment and ink._

_You must always remember, my warrior princess, that the home front is just as important as the war front. What you do there affects us here. Never feel that you are not doing your part, for yours is probably the most important of all in this war. If you did not handle rations and production, than your warriors here would starve. Likewise, the wood and metal you send goes towards making weapons for your warriors. I know it pains you, but remember that while you can clear your frustrations by training, you also need food and sleep while at the same time running Mirkwood. I suggest devoting a single night a week to venting your anger and frustrations. I usually choose the day before my lightest duties, so I can survive on little sleep. Do not be surprised at my saying this. I have been a ruler for more than three thousand years, mell-pen._

_I hope that you can continue to disperse your anger in ways that do not involve strangling your sister-in-law._

_With love,_

_Rodnor_

_P.S. Your annoying cousin, Thalion, has just arrived. For some reason, your father decided that, as a gesture of goodwill, Thalion would serve under my command. I have a feeling he hates me just as much as he hates you now. He's already broken his arm in battle, and is now in the healing tents._

To: Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in Exile and King of Lindon

From: Laegriel Pînlass, Princess Royal of Greenwood

_SA 3439_

_My dear Rodnor,_

_Ivorbaneth is starting to notice our frequent correspondence, though it took her five years to do so. She is far too inquisitive. I wish I could just silence her once and for all. Multiple times, when she has become too much of a nuisance, I have threatened to throw her in the dungeons. It works for the moment, but I fear she shall take her revenge upon me when the war is over. However, Nananeth can usually keep her in line._

_I have taken your advice on training, and as I am the seneschal of Greenwood, my authority is next to none but the King's, so I can order the few warriors left here to train with me. At first they were hesitant, until it became clear that they could not defeat me. Now, they fight in earnest, though all the best warriors are fighting with you and my father and brothers in Mordor. Training has become fun again, not just an outlet for release of my anger against the annoyances of politics. However, I am certain that it must be much worse in peacetime. Then the people can complain more, the politicians connive more, and you have to deal with frequent foreign delegations atop it all. What are your opinions on this matter?_

_It pleases me greatly that Thalion is under your command. Please go as far as you can without incurring my father's wrath, in order to pay him back for the years he has tortured me. I hope that you make him exercise physically harder than he can handle. He is a relatively decent warrior, but could never stand up to warriors of my caliber or higher. He refused to ever spar with me, supposedly on account of my being a girl, but it was really because he knew I would win. Do you think you could challenge him for me? I hope you do. I would love to see his excessive pride taken down a few notches._

_I have exciting news, but I knew that if I wrote that first that I would forget about everything else I wished to say. Father has agreed to let me come to the base camp for my coming-of-age, so that I can be with all my family! I am having another horrible social gathering afterwards here in Greenwood, but it will all be worth it to see my family and friends on the front lines once more. I do hope you will join us in our small celebration on Mettarë/Yestarë, as the latter is my day of birth._

_With love,_

_Laeglass_

To: Laegriel Pînlass, Princess Royal of Greenwood

From: Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Exiled Noldor and King of Lindon

_3439_

_My dear Maethoriel,_

_First, I apologize, for I have not much time and this will be little more than a note. I will be very glad to see you, and of course I will attend your coming-of-age celebration. Thank you for the notification, I doubt that I would have had time to get your present ready otherwise. Thalion is doing "well," and the men in his troop, all loyal soldiers of mine, agreed to put up with the extra work in order to torture the spoiled princeling, once I explained that he had relentlessly tormented and teased a close friend of mine. Thalion did complain, but I explained to your father that the entire troop did such duties as he did, so Thranduil ordered Thalion to continue. I agree that ruling a kingdom is much more stressful in peacetime, and I am glad that you at least do not have to suffer through such a thing. I must finish in haste, for Sauron has found one of his blasted werewolves, and I must see to it that it is destroyed. I hope to see you soon._

_With love,_

_Rodnor_

**Author's Note: In the last three letters, they are ****_supposed_**** to be flirting, but I'm not entirely sure how to go about flirting via letter, so it's not a very good attempt.**


End file.
